


Open Seas and Ways Of Life I've Forgotten

by Kalcifer



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Character Study, During Canon, Evolution of a relationship, Friendship, Gen, Learning to Accept Someone for Who They Are Instead of Projecting Your Own Issues Onto Them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 16:30:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20392720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalcifer/pseuds/Kalcifer
Summary: Cass is adjusting just fine to life on their own, thank you.They'd be doing even better if their new teammate wasn't so eerily reminiscent of their sibling, but that's all right. They're definitely coping.





	Open Seas and Ways Of Life I've Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still only halfway through this campaign, but apparently I have a lot of feelings about Cass. About 3.5k of them, at least. It's going to be so much fun when the next episode destroys every premise of this fic.

Cassander’s head is high as they leave the banquet hall, their back straight, but they sag with relief as soon as they reach their apartments. Official dinners are so long, and everyone talks around them, like they’re still too young to understand anything. They aren’t a baby anymore.

From the clatter of jewelry hitting the ground behind them, Sokrates is equally fed up. “Finally,” they say. “Why does anyone bother to go to those things? Everyone just says the same things over and over. The food isn’t even good, either.”

“It’s important to reaffirm our heritage,” Cassander recites. They don’t know if they believe their own words, but they sound good, at least. “We need to remember where we came from, so we know how far we’ve come, and how we can lead the people into a brighter future.”

“Ugh, Cass, you sound like a textbook.” Sokrates makes a face. “And what even is Atlantis? Why does anyone care?”

“I think it was some underwater kingdom back on Earth?” Cassander’s tutors mention it all the time, but they never go into detail, only that it was a sign that Apostalos had been important even thousands of years ago and lightyears away.

“Wow, that’s old.” Sokrates cocks their head. “Wait, underwater? Not floating or in a dome or anything?”

“I guess? It’s not like they had technology on Earth.”

“So how did anyone live there?” Sokrates doesn’t wait for an answer, face breaking out in a grin. “Maybe they were all fish people!”

Cassander hums as if they’re thinking about it. “You may have a point. I mean, you certainly look like a fish person.” They lean in so their face is right by Sokrates’. “Maybe we should test this theory. I can throw you off the island, and we’ll see how well you swim.”

“No!” Sokrates takes a quick step backwards.

Cassander laughs, weighing the benefits of chasing their sibling against the scolding they’ll get if they ruin their formal attire. The mischief in Sokrates’ eyes settles it. “Look out, fish can’t run!” They sprint towards Sokrates, who only barely turns in time to escape.

They get caught with Sokrates in their arms only halfway to the dock, but the ensuing lecture is absolutely worth it.

* * *

Cassander – Cass, they remind themself – is not nervous. They’ve spent years in the public eye, smiling for the camera and acting like they’d had a fantastic time in the war and were now so excited to lead the empire to its former glory and beyond. They can handle a job interview.

Of course, those years as a propaganda figure are working against them out here. There’s a reason they’ve revived their childhood nickname.

Their saving grace is that the Chime isn’t in any position to judge. From what they know, they’re hardly the only one with a less-than-reputable past or ties to a questionable power.

They’re also stalling. Going over the things they know about the people they’ll hopefully be working with is not going to get them any closer to actually working with those people. They shake their head and walk into the coffee shop.

The Chime is already sitting at a table together, and Cass makes their way towards them. The background hum of the coffee shop does its job at first, masking the Chime’s conversation, but the group seems amused, and as Cass gets closer they can make out the man in the middle of a story. “Honestly, I don’t know why she was so upset. It wasn’t even her car that got blown up.”

Cass freezes mid-step. The man doesn’t look Apostolosian, but something in the way he speaks is eerily reminiscent of Sokrates. His voice, maybe, or his tone, or perhaps his choice of words. Maybe it’s all of them combined that have Cass instinctively reaching out for a sibling who isn’t there.

They haven’t regained their bearings when the woman notices them standing there. “The woman” – they snort at their own thoughts. As if anyone in the star sector doesn’t recognize Aria Joie.

“Hey, you made it,” Aria says. “Come on, sit down.”

Cass does, setting aside their sentimentality. They haven’t survived as long as they have by being bad at compartmentalizing. “Thanks for inviting me,” they say. “I’m Cass.”

They’ve all run into each other on jobs before, sometimes teaming up and other times working at cross-purposes, but introductions only seem polite now that they're meeting face-to-face. Face-to-chassis? Cass doesn’t have much experience with sentient robots, and AuDy doesn’t seem inclined to give them much to work with.

They do extend a hand and introduce themself, at least, with Aria following close behind. Last is the man who was speaking when Cass walked up. “Mako,” he says, and grins. “Hey, if you’re an Apostolosian, and I’m a Mako, does that make us both fish people?”

Cass stiffens, feeling as if they’ve had the wind knocked out of them. They want to respond in kind, the old joke in a voice so familiar a safe haven on this still-strange planet, but it’s wrong and they know it. Everything about the situation suddenly feels wrong, and it’s all they can do not to flee.

They don’t say anything until they’re sure their voice will be steady, and then they bite out, “No.”

Mako backs off immediately, palms raised in a gesture of conciliation. “Okay, no fish jokes. Message received.” His tone is penitent, and Cass almost feels guilty. They’d feel even worse if they weren’t fighting off another flood of memories triggered at the sight.

“Anyway,” AuDy says briskly. “We’re here because we’re tired of having to deal with you on jobs, and we think it’ll be easier for everyone if you join us instead.”

“Right.” Cass takes a deep breath. They’re trying to make a good impression, they can’t let themself get distracted by a weird not-doppelganger. AuDy’s bluntness helps them focus on the task at hand. “And what do you have to offer me?”

The conversation goes smoothly from there. Smoothly enough that they’re being offered a room on the Kingdom Come that day, even. It may have something to do with the way that Aria had taken the lead on the Chime’s behalf.

Still, Cass finds that they’re looking forward to this. They like the Chime, on the whole, and it will be nice to have people to watch their back.

They’re doing fine out here, even without their family’s support. They don’t need to think about what they’ve left behind or what they’ve lost.

* * *

Cass doesn’t avoid Mako. They live on the same ship, after all, so it would be obvious and awkward if they tried. (Even if the Kingdom Come is larger than they would have expected. Despite its cobbled-together nature, it’s clearly well designed, too. They don’t know how a ship like this ended up in the hands of a former parking robot. They’re definitely not going to ask.)

Mako isn’t one to keep to himself, either. He seems to spend all his time in the ship’s common areas, browsing the internet and occasionally calling to anyone who’s nearby so he can show them the dumb thing that’s made him laugh most recently.

Cass is surprised, the first time it happens to them. It’s been less than a week since they joined the Chime, and the others still feel like strangers to them. They wander over anyway, since it would be rude not to, and end up watching a video of a dog in a VR helmet. “Okay?” they say when it’s over.

“That’s it?” Mako frowns at them. “You must have no sense of humor.”

“It’s a dog, of course it’s not going to understand VR.” They shake their head. “Why would anyone take the time to make VR goggles for a dog, anyway?”

Mako’s eyes light up in a way that worries Cass. They realize their mistake just in time to mouth the words along with him, if they had any inclination to. “Don’t you mean VR _ doggles _?”

Cass can practically see Sokrates superimposed over Mako as he says it. The joke, weak to begin with, is a lot less funny. “Great,” they say, and turn to leave. They’d like to tell themself they aren’t running away, but it would be too transparent a lie.

If Mako is bothered by their reaction, he doesn’t show it. He continues to show Cass all sorts of ridiculous videos and images and jokes. Two times out of three, Cass can even enjoy them, though they refuse to show it. They to act stern and baffled and serve as the straight man, because things are simpler when they know what role to play.

This is doubly true on missions, where they’ve become the de facto strategist of the Chime. It’s almost fun, figuring out what combination of the team’s eclectic skills can be used to achieve their goals.

Cass doesn’t go on missions with Mako very much. They have such different specialties, after all. It’s better for them to stay separate.

* * *

Cass hesitates in the middle of explaining the plan, caught between their immediate impulse and the more comfortable option.

“We never hang out anymore, let’s do this,” Mako says.

Cass tries not to grimace. “Yeah,” they say, and hope their weird hang-ups won’t endanger the mission.

* * *

After the disaster that is the Orth missions, jobs slow down considerably, but Cass can’t just sit around and do nothing. It would be a shame to let their skills deteriorate and then fuck up when they finally got another job, to say nothing of all the things they’re trying to avoid thinking about.

They start with simple thought exercises. They let half-formed contingencies circulate in their brain, colliding and forming plans. Then they’re looking up the details of September’s economy, where and when it gets its supplies, and it occurs to Cass that maybe they’re less over the war than they’ve been insisting.

But it’s not like anyone likes the September Institute, so if they want to go out for some “target practice”, they don’t see their job prospects suffering any more than they already are. This is definitely the healthiest way to deal with things.

They bring it up to the rest of the Chime mostly as a prelude for asking for AuDy’s assistance. They’re not going to make it to space on their own, much less to intercept something this precise. As soon as they mention September, though, Mako’s gaze hardens. “I’ll join you,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

In retrospect, they should definitely have seen this coming. It’s not like they can forget that Mako is a Stratus. They’d missed a crucial step in their internal logic, is all, the link between Strati and September, even though that was their entire motivation for the attack. It suggests unpleasant things about their state of mind.

They promptly toss this realization into the corner of their head labelled “do not enter,” where it will remain with most of their other associations with Mako.

They’re hardly going to deny him this shot at revenge, though. It would make them a massive hypocrite. They nod and say, “Glad to have you on board.”

AuDy has to be asked outright, not the type to volunteer for things, and Aria isn’t interested at all. That’s fine. Cass can’t blame her for not wanting to get caught up in a stupid and self-centered mission like this one.

They go over the plan with Mako and AuDy, adjusting it as needed to account for the additional person. Mako cracks jokes like he would at any other strategy meeting, but he’s not as quick with them, like he’s talking over a bad connection. Cass is almost relieved. It’s easier to focus when they don’t have to worry about being blindsided by not-quite-nostalgia.

It’s probably not the only reason the plan goes off without a hitch, but they can’t help but draw the connection. They’re not sure what it says about them.

They don’t dislike Mako, is the thing, both the problem and the mitigating factor. He’s clever and quick and charming, confident enough to pull off saying the most outrageous of things with a straight face. Cass would appreciate that last one even more if it wasn’t one of Sokrates’ defining traits.

They celebrate on the deck of the Kingdom Come, watching the wreckage of the supply ship drift away. It’s a vicious sort of joy, the knowledge that they’ve inflicted a petty injury on people who’ve wounded them grievously in the past. Cass is laughing, and Mako is laughing, and the sound is new and wholly welcome.

For just a few minutes, the past loosens its vice grip around Cass’ lungs, and they can breathe the recycled air on the ship more easily than they ever could on Counterweight.

* * *

Cass is still falling, thrown backward by the recoil of shooting the man antagonizing Aria, but what concerns them most is the way Order is locking up. There’s no sign of the thing they were sent to retrieve, and no sign of Mako, either.

They don’t even think before angling themself towards the Divine. They really hope it’s shut down, because what it did to the Weightless will be even less fun for them without a mech, but they can see the Kingdom Come flying towards it without issue, so maybe Mako is still in control.

Cass manages to land on Order’s side without getting swatted out of the air. They fumble a bit pulling the explosives out of their bag, hands still shaky with adrenaline, but set and detonate them well enough to pry the door open.

Order’s interior is disorienting, a dark hallway that has no apparent end. They nearly jump out of their skin the first time a gun emerges from the ceiling. They shoot it down and keep running.

It feels like they should have run clear through the Divine by now, but they’re still surprised when they reach the cockpit. Mako is curled up in the pilot’s seat, not moving, the orb still in his lap. The air in the room is suffocating. 

As they get closer, they can see blood dripping out of his nose. It’s pooling on the floor, more blood than should come from even a psychic attack, Cass thinks.

They put a hand on Mako’s shoulder, hesitant, and sigh in relief when he looks up at them. “Did you see that?” he mumbles. His eyes are glossy, the words hesitant, but he sounds so much like himself that Cass can almost imagine he’s just hit his head after attempting a dumb trick on his Ring of Saturn.

“You did great,” they say absently, gathering him into their arms. They’re very glad the Kingdom Come is right outside. They need to get him to the medbay right away.

“Out-hacked a Divine all by myself,” Mako says. There’s pride in his tone, though he still sounds distant. “You think any of the teachers’ pets back at the Institute can say that?”

“Yeah, you’re the greatest. Really impressive.” Cass isn’t paying much attention to their words, focused on keeping Mako in the present.

Mako makes a satisfied noise and presses closer to Cass’ chest. So much for keeping him conscious. Now Cass only hopes he won’t remember it tomorrow, for both their sakes.

Whatever Mako did in there seems to have disabled the rest of Order’s defenses, but the walk out still seems an eternity. They’re keeping an eye on Mako’s breathing, which is shallow but steady. They match their steps to it without noticing, a reassuring rhythm that carries them home.

* * *

Cass sets down their instruments and shakes their head. “I mean, I’m not a psychologist, there’s only so much I can do. You seem fine to me, at least?”

Mako bounces his leg anxiously on the examination table. “Isn’t there some sort of brain scanner you can use? Something that can find creepy Divine pilots and get them out of people’s heads, ideally?”

“First off, I don’t know where you think I’d get one of those, even if they do exist.” They pause, but if Mako has a witty rejoinder, he doesn’t share it. “And I mean, didn’t you say that he claimed to have been there all along? If he hasn’t tried to possess you in all that time, it sounds like he’s less dangerous than… Larry.”

“Hey, no, Larry’s cool now. He said he’d only get involved to help out or for goofs from now on.” Mako sounds indignant on Larry’s behalf, for some reason.

“You thought he was cool before, and then he tried to kill you.”

“He wasn’t trying to kill me, he just wanted to steal my body. And really, who could blame him?” Mako reclines into an exaggeratedly “sexy” pose.

“I suppose if he’d never met a real person before, he wouldn’t know any better,” Cass says blandly.

Mako scoffs. “You’re just jealous.”

There’s a moment of silence. Cass has begun to put their things away when Mako speaks up again. “Look,” he says, so hesitant that Cass has to look up at him to make sure he’s all right. “This might not be any of my business, so tell me to back off and you can go back to not laughing at my hilarious jokes like nothing ever happened. But you’ve been kind of weird since the memory thing, and I just wanted –” He gestures vaguely as if Cass should be able to follow his train of thought from the weird disconnected clues he’s provided.

When Cass doesn’t jump in, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I know it must have been weird, seeing your sibling in there like that. It was weird for me! They thought about you sometimes, and now I know all these things about when you were a kid. You were adorable, by the way, but that’s not the point.” He’s been speeding up throughout the whole speech, but he races past the last few words, as if he’s trying to get to his point without letting Cass say anything.

“The point is that it’s weird, and I’m sorry, and I know it’s not my fault but if there’s anything I can do to make it better, tell me and I’ll do it.” He looks conspicuously around the room. “Okay, we’re in space trying to erase our files from some megacorp’s databases so a guy we’ve never met doesn’t murder us with his Divine, it’s probably not going to get much better. You know what I mean.”

He looks so sincere, for once, and Cass can’t help themself. They burst out laughing. They spent all that time trying to act normal around Mako, and the minute they relax and stop trying so hard, Mako assumes they’re uncomfortable. It’s too perfect.

Mako assumes an indignant look. “Really? After all this time, this is what gets you? You really do have the absolute worst sense of humor.”

“No, I…” Cass’ protest would probably be more convincing if they could stop laughing. They take a deep breath. “I promise, I wasn’t worried about what you might have seen.” They hadn’t even considered that angle, too caught up in everything else that was going wrong.

It’s almost gratifying to have a computer verify their initial assessment of Mako, but they’ve realized some things since then. Like how in-character it is for Mako to get hung up on something like this and forget how he almost died on the same day, for instance.

Mako scrutinizes them. Cass tries to project innocence, or at least something other than what they’re actually thinking. Having to explain it at this point would be too awkward.

However successful they are, Mako shrugs and moves on, so they’ll take it as a victory. “If you say so,” he says, tone light. “I guess you won’t mind if I tell everyone about those songs you wrote when you were twelve, then.”

“No one would believe you if you did.” Cass doesn’t remember the songs at all, only the pervasive sense of shame that accompanied them, but it was a good line. It’s probably even true. They like to think they’ve erased all traces of their twelve-year-old self from their personality.

“Really? I think we should test that theory.”

Cass is pretty sure it’s hubris that makes them say, “Go for it,” but it’s not like they can back out now.

And yeah, like Mako said, things are still pretty weird. AuDy’s catatonic at the controls, and the news from the new Golden Branch Demarchy is nerve-wracking, and no one knows what’s going on with Aria’s new murderous girlfriend.

But Mako is laughing like he means it, while Cass tries very hard to fight down the smile tugging at their lips. That may not make it all okay, but for now, they’re still breathing. It’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> The joke is that Mako and Sokrates are both played by Keith.  
The real joke is me and my tendency to seize on any hint of fictional sibling relationships.


End file.
